


La Petite Mort

by scatterglory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Hollywood, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterglory/pseuds/scatterglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on kinkme_merlin for the prompt: "They are shooting a vampire show; Arthur is the director and has to show how to bite someone on the neck. Merlin (technician) is the first available 'neck' in his proximity."</p><p>ETA:  Sequel "Je Ne Sais Quoi" available <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/239304">here!</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	La Petite Mort

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-love; I make no profit, and claim no ownership.
> 
> AN: Self-challenge = write a fic that's less than 2k and isn't a WIP. I apologize in advance for the crack … but at least there's sexytiems.

“No, no, no! That's completely wrong! I'm  _surrounded_  by idiots!”

Arthur Pendragon, best known for his work directing the smash hit TV show “Love in the Time of Social Networking,” proud owner of three (3) Director's Guild awards, and #1 on TV Guide's “Top Ten Sexiest Gay Directors Under 30” list, glared at the actors in front of him. “Lance! Gwen! For the  _last_  time, neck-biting is supposed to be  _sensual!_ ”

Despite Arthur's precise, encouraging, and completely impartial coaching, the latest take was an utter disaster. Gwen apparently thought that “erotically biting the neck of her luscious victim” should resemble an attempt to suck all the juice out of an oversized watermelon, and Lance's interpretation of “a rush of pleasure like the best orgasm you've ever had” looked more like chronic constipation. 

Pressing his hands to his eyes in a (likely) futile attempt to ward off a stress-induced migraine, Arthur took a deep breath. “All right, people. One more time, from the top. And this time, get it right—I'lll be  _damned_  if we loose to _True Blood_ at the Primetime Emmys again this year!”

Unfortunately for Arthur's blood pressure, however, the following take was the worst yet. He groaned loudly—this was the  _last_  thing he needed. They were already behind schedule for filming, and the studio was breathing down his neck (pun intended) for MOAR SEX. 

Damn _True Blood_ , anyway.

“Fine. You know what? That's just fine.” Allowing all his frustration and stress to seep into his voice, Arthur turned away from his stars. “Since you two have apparently misplaced  _all the chemistry ever,_ I'll just have to show you myself. You there—” he pointed at the nearest cameraman, “get your ass over here!”

The man in question jumped—literally  _jumped,_ for crissakes—and looked up at him in disbelief. Despite his rush of annoyance—there was absolutely no need to twitch like that, he wasn't  _actually_  an orge, everyone else was just too sensitive—Arthur found himself momentarily stunned by the piercing blueness of the man's eyes. Snapping out of it and assuming his customary scowl (but seriously! not an ogre!), he put his hands on his hips. 

“Come on, we're already running late!”

The man swallowed visibly and walked over to him, stopping several arm lengths away. He was tall—maybe even taller than Arthur—and slender, dressed in the nondescript black jeans and tee shirt of all cameramen ever. His cheekbones stood out starkly in his pale face and his dark hair curled behind his ears … damn, he was  _exactly_  Arthur's type. But Arthur was a professional, and this had to be done  _right._ Shaking his head to collect his thoughts, he stepped forward and grabbed the man's arm. “Right. So. Me and … um … ” 

“Merlin.” The voice was barely a whisper. Arthur barreled on.

“... Merlin, here, are going to show you how it's done. Lance, pay attention—see how he's shaking a little? That's good. That's  _perfect,_ actually. I mean, you know she's a vamp at this point, so you're gonna be feeling scared, right? But she's super hot, and all mind-controlling and shit, so you're not  _too_  scared ...”

He pulled the man—Merlin—in front of him, so Merlin's back pressed against his chest. “Bend down a little,” he commanded, wrapping his arm around Merlin's chest and pressing him towards the floor. “There. Stop there.”

He looked up at Gwen and Lance, who were watching closely. “Okay. So, Gwen—you need to force Lance down like this, so you can get to his neck. Lance, you're taller than her, so you're going to have to bend even more. Try to keep your torso straight and just bend your knees—it'll look better on camera.”

Merlin was shaking in his arms; he was so thin, the strain of staying low like that must be getting to him. Arthur widened his stance and moved his arm lower, wrapping his hand around Merlin's bony hip and pulling him in closer. Merlin went limp against him, and Arthur made an approving noise. 

“Perfect. Now, the next bit is the build-up. Gwen, you're a ridiculously strong, bloodsucking, demonic temptress of evil, so play with it a little. Lance doesn't struggle, right, because a) it would be pointless, see: ridiculously strong, and b) he's super turned on, see: demonic temptress. So I want to you expose his neck like this …” 

He cupped Merlin's chin with his free hand and pulled his head up and back, revealing the long line of Merlin's pale neck.

“We'll have the camera zoom in, so linger over it. Maybe … something like this ...”

Leaning in close, he let his breath ghost over Merlin's neck. Merlin made a small noise in the back of his throat, and Arthur grimaced.

“Shit, that won't work. Vamps don't breathe. Okay, actually, do it like this.”

Bending his head forward slightly, he traced his lips up Merlin's neck, stopping just below his jaw. Merlin whimpered, and Arthur fought back a grin. “Nice. You ever been in front of a camera before?”

“Uh. No?” Merlin's voice was shaky, a nice touch.

“And then,” Arthur raised his voice, without moving his mouth from Merlin's neck, “You can go in for the kill.”

He tightened his grip on Merlin's hip, pressing their bodies flush together. Bending Merlin's head back even more, he pushed his hips forward, forcing Merlin slightly off balance. Merlin made a strangled noise, and both of his hands flew up to Arthur's arm, clinging to him but not struggling. Arthur made a mental note—that would probably look  _fantastic_  on camera. 

“Make sure you can see what I'm doing.” He heard sounds of movement as Lance and Gwen adjusted their lines of sight. “You don't have to do it exactly like this, but here's the general idea. Merlin, feel free to keep playing along.”

Without further ado, he bent to his task. After a second of WWVD—What Would Vamps Do?—he opened his mouth slightly. He lapped lightly at Merlin's neck, right over his pulse, as if tasting it. Merlin shuddered against him—really, he was  _ridiculously_  good at this—and Arthur increased the pressure of his tongue, drawing small circles over Merlin's pulse. Merlin moaned, and Arthur could feel his knees tremble as he put even more weight on Arthur's arms.

This was good—Arthur could work with this. He pulled back—for dramatic effect—and then swooped down, biting the soft, smooth skin of Merlin's neck. Merlin cried out, his hands clenching convulsively on Arthur's forearm as his knees gave out entirely. Arthur continued to suckle on his neck, alternately worrying Merlin's skin between his teeth and soothing it with his tongue as he allowed Merlin's body weight to pull them slowly to the floor.

Arthur ended up sitting back on his heels with Merlin leaning against him, his hips framed by Arthur's knees. Merlin was making high, desperate noises in the back of his throat, the muscles of his neck working under Arthur's mouth as he gasped wordlessly.

Going on instinct, Arthur adjusted his grip on Merlin's hip, his forearm sliding lower until it brushed across—

Oh. 

 _Oh._

Merlin stiffened in his arms—well, the  _rest_  of him stiffened—and made an abortive attempt to pull away, but Arthur wasn't done with him yet.

“Now, once you get to this point,” he said for Gwen's benefit, speaking as clearly as he could around a mouthful of Merlin, “he should be almost completely drained. We've got to simulate death before you can turn him, right? So I want you keep going through his 'death throes'.”

He sucked on Merlin's neck again,  _hard,_  while grinding his arm down against Merlin's erection. Merlin's hips jerked up involuntarily and he gasped, and Arthur smiled into his neck.

“Yeah, just like that,” he murmured. Then, louder: “See, he feels like he's dying, so he'll finally begin to struggle. Survival instinct, et cetera.”

Merlin arched back against him, thrusting his hips up into Arthur's arm. Arthur just gripped him tighter, pressing back down as Merlin cried out in time with his thrusts. Arthur redoubled his efforts on Merlin's neck as Merlin's entire body went completely rigid. Then, with a final, shuddering cry, Merlin went limp and Arthur felt warmth spread beneath his arm. With a final nip and lick at Merlin's neck, he loosened his grip slightly and looked up at Lance and Gwen.

“And  _that's_  how you bite someone on the neck,” he said smugly.

Lance and Gwen just stared at him, twin expressions of glassy-eyed shock plastered across their faces. He smirked at them.

“All right, take five, and let that all sink in. When you get back, I expect a 100% improvement!”

Nodding shakily, his stars escorted each other off set—in the direction of Gwen's trailer, he noticed with a grin.

As soon as the set was more or less cleared, he looked down at Merlin, still collapsed against his chest. Merlin's eyes were closed, lashes long and dark against his cheeks, and his lips were parted slightly.

Not letting go, Arthur shifted his hips so that his own erection—which had sprung up, as it were, right about the time Merlin had started making those damn  _noises_ —was pressing into Merlin's lower back. Merlin's eyes flew open at the contact and he looked up in panic—

“That was an incredible … performance,” Arthur said in his lowest, sultriest voice. “When we break for lunch, I expect to see you in my trailer for an  _encore_.”

Merlin licked his lips nervously, and nodded. Arthur shifted his weight forward abruptly, rubbing roughly against Merlin's back for emphasis, before releasing him and rising to his feet. Thanking heaven that wonderfully-concealing knee-length jackets were in this season, he clapped his hands together.

“Right, people, time's up! Let's take it from the top!”

 

 **The End**  

**Author's Note:**

> Oh geez ... so this was originally intended as a one-shot, but there may be a sequel ... er, _encore_ ... in the works. Le sigh. Can I still call it a win?
> 
> ETA: Sequel "Je Ne Sais Quoi" available [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/239304)


End file.
